


And She Screamed

by Ephemeral_Joy



Series: "When I kissed you" // Stydia [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5x16, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, F/M, Love, Lydia-centric, mention of other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy
Summary: They say your life flashes in front of your eyes when you die.When Lydia layed on the cold steel still in the clinic after she screamed, one certain boy seemed to reappear in almost every memory.





	And She Screamed

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older fic that perhaps some of you have read on Tumblr. This is my Tumblr if you'd like to follow me there: http://stydiahasconquered.tumblr.com/

As the highest pitched scream she ever emitted left her lips, making the glass windows shatter and her ears ring, her eyes fell closed.   
She was paralysed, couldn’t say anything nor move. She only saw flashes of her life in front of her, like a blurry Powerpoint presentation made for her. Her fiery red hair in intricate braids that her mom loved to do, before she learned them herself. Little Lydia in the park or in the safety of her own room reading children’s books, later on encyclopaedias. The whispers of fights downstairs, the hot feeling of tears stinging her cheeks.   
A boy, too skinny for his own good, following her around the playground. She didn’t recognise him.   
Lydia saw herself growing and growing and growing, hearing a whirlwind of “You’ve grown so much,” around her.   
A girl, long and proud with a killer jacket. Allison. Her best friend. The best she ever had. With her mesmerising brown locks and lovely personality. If only she knew what the girl was capable of.  
“I’ve had a crush on you since the third grade,” echoes through her mind, flashes of her and Stiles at her first ever Winter Formal. Bitten by Peter. The cold, wet grass soaking in her skin and bones. It hurt.   
Jackson, her boyfriend, slamming her against a wall, feelings coming to the surface at how her parents used to fight. She didn’t want that.   
Dreams and visions of the monster that bit her. Tears and fears were the only things that she felt and saw. Burned to the ground, was that monster. And she brought it back to life.   
A lizard, Jackson they said, right in front of her nose. He died and resurrected. Did he ever truly loved her?, rang through her mind in the middle of the lonely nights.   
Stiles, the boy she once ignored and took for granted, protecting her from crazed birds. Allison being back, her bright light.   
Stiles by her side when she finds the lugubrious dead bodies –  connections, patterns, coincidences, sacrifices, rolling in her brain. He’s there, over and over and over again. Him, standing there, in the cold.   
Fire, hot and rash and mean. Lydia could feel the fear old Lydia felt, Scott almost but not yet burning himself to ashes. Stiles was there, of course he was there. Lydia’s hair splattered on his back as she saved Scott and Stiles from suicide.   
A kiss, anxious and nervous and abrupt. Without a real beginning nor ending. To help him, she reminded herself days that went by after the special moment. Lydia, cold and soundless, could still feel the jitters and excitement, that she easily covered by a sweet smile and lousy excuses. She could still taste his scent and smell, the feeling of his chapped lips imprinted on her skin.   
Yet the next moment flashes to a cold and dead Stiles, floating in the water for hours and hours to go. Deaton, always reassuring, said to the girl that he’s going to be okay.   
He breathed again.   
His closeness, his scent, holding her together. Why are all her memories, all her fragments of her life about the boy?   
Red colour flashes before her closed eyes. Blurry lines forming yarn, trapped in her milky white fingers. Unravelling, and tightening around his. Them. Connected. His eyes locked on hers. Where did his confidence come from?   
Her best friend, dead, lifeless, cold on the ground, lying on her beloved. Bow and arrow a symbol of her power and courage.   
Another love, dead, risked his life. The vision was blurry, only a fragment, as the next were her eyes focused on flannel and senses on hands on her back.   
Her, old Lydia, alone in the lake house, without her partner in crime. Crying. Begging a fellow banshee for forgiveness. Lydia as a lost soul drifting between her broken friends, without a hand to hold hers. No Stiles to keep her steady. Stumbling and falling and helplessly protecting the freshmen with a baseball bat.  
Numbers and letters were the glue to the two juniors. And yet, it wasn’t the same.   
What happened to them, back to strangers in their senior year.   
It happened so fast. Metal creatures of the night, with frequencies no one can hear, with mind tricks and forgetting instruments.   
The pack, Scott, Kira, Malia, Stiles and her, drifting apart. Glue dissipated by stupid lies.   
She fell, so hard and unpredictable. It was sophomore year replayed. Leaves and wood scratching her white flesh as she was in a catatonic state, brought from hospital to hospital. Eichen House was her final destination. She heard everything. The ugly screams and cries from other asylum habitants. Stiles’ sweet nothings about mathematics. Stiles’ touch on her hand. He was the only one that visited, she remembered, not ever hearing another familiar voice.   
A broken hero on a mission, his screams, yelling her name, begging her to listen to him. She’ll be okay, she’ll be okay!   
Valack’s head, a death caused by her. She killed someone.  
Fire, surrounding her, protecting her.   
Moving and turning in rapid speed and she bounced up and down in the beat up car, a vehicle Stiles doesn’t want to give up.   
And then she screamed.

It was as if she came out of the water, finally breathing. Finally feeling a gush of cold air hitting her forehead and cheeks. It was surreal. The feeling.

She opened her eyes.

Green eyes locked with amber ones, ones that looked relieved whilst tears prickled in the corners.

They exhaled at the same time.

As she sat up, with the help of Scott and Stiles, she realised

that maybe

just maybe

she was truly in love with Stiles Stilinski.


End file.
